Peeta looked over at the smaller girl huddled in the corner of the couch, and he pulled a blanket off the back of it and handed it to her before leaning back to watch the tape. "He's sneaky," Peeta agreed. "He's like Foxface... Smarter than everyone else pegs him to be." He watched all of the tapes od Jace, watching him hide and be discreet about hunting and eating. He only killed when he had to, and that was mainly the last round when he won at the end. It was an incredible technique. "We have to constantly keep our eye out for him and not underestimate him," he said, "We can't forget about him." Looking over at Sienna, he eyed her quietly. It was obvious he was saying "we" as in him and Sienna, because he was going to try to carry her as far as he could into the game. He would try his hardest not to become attatched to her, but he couldn't just stand by and not put forth any effort to protect her. His blue eyes turned away from her. "I want to see Scarlet's tapes."
He walked over to the television and slid the numbered disc into the player. Across the screen flashed the announcements for the 72nd Hunger Games, and his eyes went wide at the girl sitting next to Caesar on the interviewing couch. "Is that... is that Scarlet?" He tilted his head to the side, amused. This girl looked nothing like the dark, dangerous beauty that was just a couple years older. This girl was full of life, innocent... It was obvious to Peeta that this was what she must have been like before the games, before the death of her family, before she was labeled a leathel killer... She reminded him of Sienna, actually, making him look over to the girl beside her, then over to Haymitch. "She was that good at acting?"
~*~
Scarlet looked over at Jace and rolled her eyes, lifting the bottle to her lips and taking a huge swig. Her eyes were puffy from crying, but she looked anything but fragile. She did not want to be consoled or taken care of. She just wanted to be left alone, and the last thing she really wanted was to have to make conversation with the one tribute who got under her skin more than the others. "Who said I was committing suicide?" he asked, arching her eyebrow. "I'm just drinking with rest of them..." She nodded to the crown of people in the city square, partyin and celerating the Hunger Games. "That's for cowards... I do not plan to die here," she muttered, "I'm going to die old and happy, eventually, but not here. Not for them to watch."
She leaned her head back on the wall behind her, her silk night gown blowing in the wind just enough to show off her toned legs.